On the Shores of Avalon
by Lady of Immortals
Summary: Set when Arthur is King. Arthur reflects on his death as he lies on the shore of the Lake. He wishes he had more time with Merlin, but what surprises does the sorcerer have up his sleeve? A/M Slash. Warning: character death. Rated to be safe.


**Disclaimer:** I do not own anything from Merlin, nor do I make any money from this story.

A/N: Hi again! I'm really happy with the response from my first post, and so have decided to publish this story ahead of schedule! So, I hope you like it, it's a little different than the last.

**On the Shores of Avalon.**

Arthur knew, as soon as the first trickle of blood made its way slowly down his cheek that the wound was mortal. There was no saving him, not this time. It was time for him to lay down in eternal rest.

The surviving Knights gathered around him, and the King ordered them to bear him to the shore of the Lake. The one into which Excalibur must be thrown.

As the solemn Knights carried him towards his final act, Arthur thought of Merlin. He was both glad and saddened that he had insisted his lover stay at Camelot that morning when he rode to war. Glad; because he did not want Merlin to watch him die, but sad; because he wanted to spend his last moments with his lover. For him to be the last thing Arthur saw.

Merlin had protested his orders, but Arthur's argument that Mordred might send warriors to raze the city was sound, and the sorcerer had agreed to stay and protect Camelot. Arthur had seen him watching the procession of horses from the battlements. He knew that despite wanting to guard the city that had become his home, the sorcerer felt that his place was at Arthur's side.

It struck him that last night, their final night together, had held a touch of desperation. Perhaps Merlin had sensed that something would happen today, something that would separate them? It would certainly explain the man's behaviour. The way he had held Arthur, kissed him as though he were a drowning man and Arthur air and the way he had insisted that the King remain inside him, even though their lovemaking was done was not normal for Merlin.

Still, Arthur had not complained. He knew that it would be one of his fondest memories in the afterlife. He would cling to it until Merlin joined him in death.

They arrived at the Lake, and Arthur sent all but Sir Bedivere back to Camelot.

"Throw my sword into the Lake," he commanded the Knight, and held the great weapon out to the other man.

Bedivere took it, and Arthur watched as he strode to the water's edge and threw Excalibur as far as he could. Just before it touched the rippling surface, a hand, delicate and pale, rose from the depths and took hold of Excalibur. The mighty sword was held aloft for a moment, before it was pulled down to its watery resting place.

"My Lord!" Bedivere exclaimed, rushing back to Arthur. "Did you see...?"

"Yes," the King smiled painfully. "The Lady of the Lake has reclaimed her treasure."

He took a moment to breathe. The sharp pain in his head was causing his eyes to lose focus now. It was nothing, however, compared to the agony in his chest when he thought of Merlin.

"Sire...there is a boat," the Knight murmured, looking out at the water.

"It is coming for me," Arthur grunted. "Bedivere, you must look after Merlin for me. He will need protecting. He is strong, but I fear my death shall leave him vulnerable. I will not see harm come to him in my absence."

"I do not think that necessary Arthur," a familiar voice rang out from the tree line.

The king turned his head to view the blurry figure moving swiftly towards him.

"Merlin!" he called weakly. "What are you doing here? You shouldn't see me like this."

"I felt the wound," Merlin's hand passed over Arthur's eyes, and his vision cleared in time to see the gold fading back into blue. Tears dripped from Merlin's cheek to his own. "I had to come. I'm not letting you leave me."

"Merlin, you cannot save me," Arthur protested. "The boat is coming. I must go to Avalon. It is time."

"Oh I know all that," Merlin waved a hand dismissively. "That is why I'm not trying to save you. I'm coming with you."

There was a pause as the boat drew up to the shore. Three figures sat cloaked and silent within it.

"What?" Arthur breathed. "Merlin you can't!"

"Why not?" the sorcerer countered. "I'm not letting you leave me."

"Merlin, if you come you will be giving up your life!" Arthur tried to impress upon his lover the seriousness of this course of action.

"No, _you_ are my life, Arthur," Merlin stared down at him. "Without you, I am nothing. I have no life."

"What about our friends? Gwen and Lancelot will miss you..." Arthur tried to reason.

"I'm quite sure they will understand," Merlin shook his head. "In fact, I believe Gwen would do the same as me, if they were in our position. Besides, they have to look after the people now. I would only be a burden to them."

"I'm not going to talk you out of this, am I?" the King sighed, wincing when Merlin and Bedivere lifted him onto the cushions in the bottom of the boat. The movement made his head spin.

"You should know by now that I never listen to you," Merlin smiled as he settled himself next to his lover. He turned to the Knight standing on the shore. "You must go back to Camelot. The fighting there is intense. The city is razed but the people still fight. When I left, the Knights were overpowering Mordred's troops."

Bedivere nodded wordlessly, and turned back towards the trees.

"So you couldn't even keep Camelot safe," Arthur tutted. "Now I have to put up with your idiocy for eternity."

"I apologise that I am not as great a warrior as you, _sire_," Merlin's sarcastic tone was a welcomed distraction from the knowledge that Camelot was no more. "But don't worry, I shall suffer just as much as you. I have to put up with you being a prat for eternity."

"You two never change," an amused voice came from one of the cloaked women.

"Morgana!" the men exclaimed in unison.

"Hello," she smiled at them sadly. "I'm sorry for all that has happened. I know I can never atone for what I have done, but Avalon has healed me. My mind is now in one piece, and I feel so much more remorse than you could ever understand."

"We forgive you," Merlin gave her a wide grin, and though Arthur did not fully share his lover's sentiment just yet, he couldn't deny him what made him happy.

Morgana leaned down, her hand settling over the wound on Arthur's head.

"You will be healed too," she murmured to him. "Avalon waits for you. It shall provide an undisturbed sanctuary from the world that has always wanted too much from you."

The sharp ache in his head disappeared, and Arthur knew that it was over. He reached over and took Merlin's hand, squeezing the slim fingers gently.

"I'm glad you're with me Merlin," he whispered.

"Me too," the sorcerer smiled.

Together, they looked forward, watching as Avalon drew ever closer.

They made love that night, on a secluded section of the beach that had been one of the first things they'd seen in Avalon. With gentle, lingering touches and a slow rhythm, they brought each other to completion.

Arthur remained buried in Merlin as they shared a deep kiss, their breathing and hearts slowing in synchronization, as they had always done. Finally, he pulled out and rolled to the side, Merlin curling up to him, his head on the King's chest. The soft breeze played across their cooling skin as Arthur gazed at the moon, and Merlin gazed at him.

He felt light. Lighter than he ever had. There were no more burdens, no more worries. Everything was right, and Arthur finally felt completely happy. Sure, his time with Merlin had always made him happy, but there were always threats hanging over them. Troubles that lurked in the corners of his mind, no matter how hard he tried to push them away.

"Hmm," Arthur looked down at Merlin's contemplative sigh.

"What is it?" he asked, a smile tugging at the corner of his mouth as he saw the intense blue eyes stare at him mischievously.

"You look younger now," Merlin answered. "As young as you were when I first met you."

It was then that Arthur noticed that Merlin, too, looked younger. The lines had disappeared from his face, and he seemed as carefree as he'd been in the first few years he'd spent in Camelot.

"You do as well," he stroked a finger across one of the prominent cheekbones he so adored.

"But see, I looked brilliant no matter how old I was," and there was the insolent grin he loved. "You on the other hand, lost a little of your handsomeness as you grew older."

"Are you saying that I was not attractive?" Arthur cried in mock outrage.

"No, I'm saying that age took away your handsome features, and replaced them with regal lines and..." whatever else Merlin was going to say was lost in a shriek as Arthur grabbed him.

Rolling them over, the blond grinned down at his lover.

"I will teach you to ever question my attractiveness!" he growled playfully, before setting out to relearn the pale, youthful body below him.

Merlin's only response was a sigh of ecstasy.


End file.
